


Peace

by Speary



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x18, 15x19, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, Fix It Fic, M/M, coda s15e18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:08:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27619504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Speary/pseuds/Speary
Summary: Everyone deserves a little peace...Coda for 15x19 and Speculation
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 96





	Peace

**The Boys**

It had been days of living, just living. They went on a small hunt, took out some monsters, and saved some people. It was easy in a way that things tended to be after an apocalypse. And the boys had experience with that aplenty.

There was some redemption, some happiness, some reward, at least for Sam at the end of it, though neither of them knew that going into the little hunt. And later Dean would admit to himself that if Sam was happy, Dean was a little happier too. After Jack blipped off to go do almighty things, he and Sam drove. There were people to check on, hopes that were running high. Their first stop was not far from the silo where Sam had described the staggering losses of their friends. 

Donna was there and so were all the others. “We were gearing up to head back to our homes, but we decided to wait for you boys,” Bobby said as he reached out and shook Dean’s hand before pulling him into a hug. Donna was hugging Sam. It was a good reward just seeing them all. Sam was raring to go though. He needed to find Eileen.

They drove toward her place. She’d last been on the sidewalk, waiting for them to pick her up. All that was left when they arrived was her purse with her keys and her cell phone, Sam’s unread message notifications lighting up the screen. As they drove back this second time, Sam had hope. The purse sat on the seat beside him. He was cursing himself for taking it. Without it, Eileen would have no way of contacting them, no way of even getting in her car or her house. “Hopefully she had a coat and doesn’t mind waiting,” Sam said.

Dean tried to comfort him. The journey was long, and they still had many miles to go before they’d get to her. He turned on the stereo and pushed in a tape at random. “Nope,” he ejected the tape, a Led Zepplin mixtape he’d made a copy of some time ago. “Pick out a tape for me. They’re under your seat.” Dean waved toward Sam, handing him the rejected tape to return to the case.

“Fast or slow?” Sam was flicking through the choices. 

“Something loud, distracting,” Dean replied.

Sam chose Metallica, which wouldn’t have been Dean’s first choice, too many lyrics hit too close to home, and too many songs were this close to being ballads. He accepted the choice though. It was better than the other tape. Too many memories in that one.

The miles ticked by. It was late at night when they pulled up to the curb at Eileen’s place. The neighborhood was dreadfully quiet, as if nothing had been restored. Dean could almost hear Sam’s heartbeat as he jumped out of the car. “Eileen!” he called out into the night. “Eileen!” Dean wondered if Sam had forgotten that Eileen was not going to hear him. He assumed it was just a lot of pent up energy paired with fear that she wouldn’t be there that made him go with the least likely way that they’d locate her. A lone dog set to barking. A light went on in an upstairs window in one of the houses.

“What the hell you yelling for,” a guy shouted down at him.

“Do you know Eileen Leahy?” Sam called up to him.

“No!” the guy yelled down. “You know they have these things called cell phones.” He slammed the window shut and ended the conversation. 

Sam kept yelling for Eileen. When the cops showed up, they had to call it quits. Dean convinced Sam to get in the car. Dean drove them both around the neighborhood. In the end they had to get a room at a local motel. Dean was sure that Sam wasn’t going to get much sleep, but even a little sleep would be better than none.

Dean closed his eyes, and it wasn’t much better for him either. Without the world’s distractions his mind was left with too much space to reflect, to remember.  _ I love you. _ The words came in Cas’ broken voice. Yet it was as clear in his mind as if they were back in the bunker. Dean squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, as if that would block the memory. Tears slipped from his eyes sliding down into his ears. He hoped it was dark enough to keep Sam from noticing.

**Eileen**

Eileen made her way to town and decided to hang out in St. Ignatius Catholic Church. She’d helped with a possession recently and had managed to endear herself to the priest who had sought her out. “You can use my phone to call him,” Father Michael had offered.

And she would have if it weren’t for her over reliance on her contact list. She didn’t memorize phone numbers. She just stored them in the phone and let it do the work for her. She was kicking herself just a little right now for not having Sam’s number committed to memory. 

Father Michael made up a cot for her and gave her some blankets. “We’ll get things sorted in the morning. Worst case scenario, I’ll drive you wherever you need. It could be fun to get out, see the world a little.” He smiled and Eileen felt comforted. She wondered if Sam was worried. She wondered if everyone was brought back or if she was getting another miracle just for her.

**The Boys**

When they got up the next day, Sam didn’t seem to have the old fire in him. Dean tried to cheer him up. “It’ll be so much easier to find her in daylight. Not like she could hang out on a street corner all night waiting for us.”

Sam sighed and said, “She wasn’t like the others, Dean. I resurrected her. Maybe that was it for her. Maybe I don’t get to have her back.”

“Jack wouldn’t do that. Jack brought them all back. He wouldn’t leave her out.” Even as he said it, Dean realized that not everyone was back.

“He didn’t bring back Cas,” Sam whispered. “Not like Jack can do just anything now. Even he has limits.”

“This is different. Eileen didn’t make a deal, and she was alive. She has to be here. One of us has to get the happy ending here, and I think we’ve established that that someone is gonna be you.”

“There’s no rule out there that says we get to be happy. Frankly, I’ll settle for a little peace.” With that they packed their bags and headed out. They drove through the little town, past a church and back to Eileen’s neighborhood. They went door to door. They asked everyone if they’d seen her. Sam had a cute picture of the two of them on his phone. Most hadn’t gotten to know her so well. She hadn’t lived in the area for long.

“We should try in town,” Dean suggested.

Sam shrugged. He was giving up. They asked at a diner and a gas station as Dean filled up the tank. They went into various businesses, and got the same answers from everyone.  _ No they hadn’t seen her. _

They drove back to the bunker. Each felt the failure of the search hanging over them. Sam’s explanation made sense to him though. Even Dean accepted it. How many chances does one person get? Dean thought about all of their extra lives and felt that it was a little cosmically unfair that Eileen didn’t get just a little more time.

They made their way back into the bunker later that night. Dean got the drinks. It would dull the edge of the most recent defeat. He handed one over to Sam. “To the ones we’ve lost.” They clinked the bottles and drank. It would be a long night. Every night would be long it seemed. Dean decided that he’d have to fill that time. They’d hunt; they’d save people. It would be a distraction from the things that hurt, and maybe Sam would be able to find value in living again even if it wasn’t with Eileen.

**Eileen**

There were things that Father Michael got roped into taking care of before they could leave. It ended up being another two days before they could hit the road. He had to perform mass and visit some of his parishioners. Eileen was about to suggest borrowing his car for a day, but figured it would be okay to find a store of patience. 

It was a solid six hour drive to the bunker. It wasn’t the worst drive, but Father Michael didn’t listen to the radio. Six hours is a lot of time to fill with small talk. He was a kind man, but he didn’t have much to share. Eileen told him about her early life as a hunter, some of the things that she encountered. She chose the tame creatures to chat about. 

Even those mild stories elicited a “Dios mio” from the priest. They pulled up to the bunker at dusk, having started their day so late. She thanked the priest and assured him that she’d be okay. He’d given her a backpack with some provisions to get her through. 

“Thank you for everything,” Eileen said.

“It was nothing, my child. We owed you for your help anyway. I hope our paths will cross again.” He looked past her to the very barren looking entry of the bunker. “Are you sure this is the place? It seems…”

Eileen laughed. “Yes, it’s meant to look abandoned. I’ll be fine. Thank you so much again.” She stepped away from the car’s open window and gave the father one last wave. He turned the car around and started to slowly drive away. Eileen walked to the door. It was locked, but luckily Sam had shown her how to get in anyway.

The place was cold and dark, like no one had been there in at least a day. “Sam!” She called out. “Dean!” She waited for either of them to come find her at the top of the stairs. “Jack! Cas!” She descended the stairs. The place was empty. There was damage in the hall. A door had been blown to bits. She worried a little. She worried a lot. She went to Sam’s room and noticed a pad of paper on the desk. There were notes on a case. She wondered if he was just gone for a bit. She hoped he was okay.

She sat on his bed and kicked off her shoes. There wasn’t much she could do except wait.

**Prayers I**

_ I don’t know if you’ve still got your ears on, but it’s worth a shot. I’m sorry. I am not what you might call good at words. I’ve said the wrong thing way too many times. I just wish I was better. I wish I was the kind of person you say I am.  _

_ I’m trying. I am really trying to live up to your good opinion of me. I’m not just a killer, not just some blunt instrument of death. I’m not sure that I buy it all. I’m pretty sure I’m not a bunch of love and stuff. I’m a mess. I’ll likely be a mess for some time. _

_ I’m angry too. I’m angry that I don’t get to have my say. I hate goodbyes. They never give you the closure that you need. I wish you could hear me.  _

**Prayers II**

_ Jack, I know you said you wouldn’t be requiring prayers and such, but I am hoping that you’ll take them anyway. We’re hunting, Dean and I. Killing time. Dean’s looking for distractions. I just can’t seem to let go of her. Eileen didn’t come back with the others. I can’t help but think she deserved better. And Cas too. They deserved better. There’s got to be a way, right? There’s gotta be a way. I just can’t accept that it ends like this. I don’t expect anything from you, Jack. You’ve done so much. I guess I just needed to talk to someone who gets it. And it couldn’t be Dean. Hope you’re happy. We miss you already. _

**Jack**

The universe was vast, and Amara wanted him to see everything. There was comfort in the connection. He knew the history of existence. He knew the infinite nature of all things. It was an adjustment. Prayers poured into his conscience, and he learned to sort them. He played with time to allow him what was needed to deal with the myriad new things that were laid out before him.

He cured some diseases, and he made some repairs to the environment. He hoped that the help would not make humans complacent about their role in all things. Amara assured him that no matter what, humans would be human, full of blame and also sacrifice. In the end, they were worth saving.

He’d lived many years like this, learning and growing and changing. Time was not the same for Earth. It was mere days when the prayer came to his attention. “What should I do?”

Amara laughed. “She’s there. He just hasn’t found her yet.”

“Should I tell him?” Jack took a moment to look in on Eileen who was sleeping in Sam’s bed.

“I think it’ll be nice for him to find her like that.” Amara directed his attention to the Impala which was far from the bunker and even farther from the nebula that they’d been exploring. “The real question is what to do about the other request.”

“I’ve been working on that one. No progress as of yet. Some beings are more difficult than others. I had no trouble working with the other gods on establishing some form of peace.”

“They are pleased to see that my brother has been demoted. He had lost his humanity and had become troublesome for all of them.”

“Lost his humanity?”

Amara laughed again. “You know what I mean. His concern for others…” She was watching Dean now. “For a time, he seemed to love them. They make you want to love them with all of their trying and struggling to just get by. There’s so many of them that sometimes you forget to really see them. That is something we must endeavor to avoid.”

“You see them?” Jack asked.

“I do now. Dean, he made me see things. And there were others. In the end, I learned to see them, and they are beautiful.”

“So what do I do?”

Amara smiled all beautiful and glowing from within their shared existence. “You do what they do. You keep trying. You carry on.”

**The Boys**

_ I love you. _ The words were in his veins now, pounding in his head. He’d dull them with a drink or several when he got home. At least the hunt was a success. It was too easy though, too quick. They’d need to find something more complex to distract them.

Dean pulled into the garage and shut off the car. He shoved Sam’s arm a little to wake him. He felt bad about it. Sam hadn’t been sleeping. He’d caught him staring out the motel window the night before at 3:00 am. 

“We’re home already?” Sam sucked in a deep breath and stretched. They got out of the car and Sam stretched some more, joints cracking audibly. “What time is it?”

“Not late. 9 o’clock.” Dean grabbed their bags from the trunk, tossing one to Sam. They made their way into the bunker, exhaustion weighing them both down. “Sam,” Dean whispered, bringing Sam to a stop.”

Dean pointed to the light that was on in the main room. “Did you leave it on,” Sam whispered back.”

“I always shut them off.” They set the bags down quietly and pulled weapons from hiding places. Sam had a machete and Dean had a sawed off shotgun. They slowly made their way to the hall. Dean pointed toward Sam’s room. “Door,” he whispered.

“I closed it. Always do,” Sam whispered. They made their way down the hall, weapons ready. Sam peeked around the edge of his doorway, and in an instant, dropped his machete and rushed into the room. Dean was at his heels. “Eileen, Elieen!” He had her in his arms. She was holding him right back just as tightly.” 

**Prayers III**

_ If I ask you to get your feathery ass down here, would that annoy you enough to make it happen? I wish you could hear me. I wish I could annoy you like I used to. I find myself wishing for a lot of things I can’t have. Guess that makes us similar. I hear you on repeat when I try to sleep. Guess that’s you getting a little revenge for all those years of irreverent prayers.  _

_ I want to fix things. I wish I could just fix things with you. There’s so much I didn’t get to tell you. You deserved better than what you got. I hope you know, you’re a hero. You made things better. You made me better. It’s gonna be better with Jack running things. And that’s because you believed in him from the start. I wish you could see it all. You’d be so proud of him. I know we’ve been damn proud. _

_ Sam’s got Eileen back. At least someone got their happily ever after ending. I’m happy for him. I really am. And I’m miserable too. I’ve been drinking too much. I need to get that in check. Maybe tomorrow. Tonight it’s me and my buddy Ole Number 7. If you can hear this, and you’re worried, you can always come back and stop me.  _

_ When I can, I study. I’ve been reading the old lore on the Empty. Let’s just say, we don’t have a lot to go on here. I’m still trying though. If there is any way I can fix things… _

_ I keep hearing you say that you love me. It shouldn’t hurt to be loved. I hate to say it isn’t fair. I sound like a whiner. But it isn’t fair. It isn’t right. You deserved better, so much better than you got. _

**Prayers IV**

_ Hey there Jackie boy. You got your ears on? You brought him back before. Why can’t we just do that again? Why can’t we have him back? Can’t you still save him? Did you even try? I’m not blaming you. God no. Hahaha. God. I’m wanting more than this. He should be here. Maybe we can make a trade. Even Stevens. I go, and he comes back. I can’t live with his sacrifice. I just can’t. Dean Winchester has to be worth something to this cosmic entity. I’m no angel, but maybe it won’t matter. We gotta try. Please try. _

**Jack**

The bunker was still the same even after all this time. For him it had been far longer than it had been for them. Even still, time had certainly passed. There was a baby swing in the corner of the kitchen. There were baby bottles drying in the rack next to the sink. 

He considered showing up in the main room, but something about the kitchen felt like home. Jack ran his hand over the countertop. It was smooth and cold and clean. As much as Dean had changed, at least this much had not. He’d heard the prayers, all of them. In time they became less accusatory and more conversational. He’d done his best to send peace to Dean’s sleep. The nightmares made nothing better, and Dean deserved at least a little comfort.

He could hear the distant sound of a baby crying. Footsteps in the hall made their way to the noise. He smiled. It was nearly as wonderful as he’d hoped for them. Voices flowed into the kitchen before he even saw them. They stopped at the doorway, frozen in midstep. “Hello Sam. Hello Eileen,” Jack said with a grin. 

Sam was the first to snap out of it. He rushed to Jack and hugged him. It took Jack a moment to reciprocate. It had been some time since he’d been in a situation that called for physical contact. Sam stepped back and said, “It’s been forever.”

“A little over a year. Hardly forever. I had a lot to fix.”

“Not complaining. I just...we just...We really missed you.” Sam was hugging him again. When he stepped back he motioned for Eileen to come closer. She was carrying a baby in her arms. “I want you to meet my daughter, Mary.”

Jack reached out and brushed the top of her head with his fingertips. “She’s beautiful. I’m so happy for you both.” He smiled at Eileen. “I thought I’d stay for a bit, if you don’t mind company. I was thinking I’d have breakfast with you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sit. Sam and I were just going to get that going. You still drink coffee?”

“That would be nice.” Jack looked to the doorway. “Is Dean going to come to breakfast?”

Sam and Eileen looked at each other and Sam signed something before Eileen answered. “He usually joins us later. He had a tough night.”

“He’s still mourning. I’m aware.” Jack looked down at the table. He didn’t often feel disappointed anymore. Most things were controllable. He certainly hadn’t wanted for Dean to suffer. “Should I go to him?”

Sam and Eileen looked at each other again to perhaps sync up their answer. Sam said, “He’ll be glad to see you.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Sam came to him and set a hand on his shoulder. “Positive. You’re family, even if you went and got all powerful on us. Go see him.” Sam waved at the door. “He’s been doing much better since Mary came along. He stopped drinking himself into a mess. He’s found a way to be okay. Last night was just off. He had a moment.” Sam paused a moment like he was considering further explanation, but instead went with, “When you come back, we’ll eat.”

Though Jack had a unique perspective, he felt Dean’s sorrow, his pain. Though he knew where the road was going, it was still hard to know that Dean had suffered. He wished that there had been a way to pause things for them all as he often did for himself. This time had also provided a bit of growth. And that wasn’t a small thing. 

He got to Dean’s firmly closed door and knocked. He heard a grunt coming from inside and knocked again. Some of the old timidity came back to him as he waited at the door. Dean’s room was a place of refuge for a powerful man that Jack had come to revere. Even with his powers, with all that had changed, old feelings were still a hallmark of who he was. He knocked yet again, this time saying, “Dean,” as he did so.

A bottle fell, and Dean was muttering something. 

“Dean,” Jack called a little louder. “Can I come in?”

There were shuffling and stumbling sounds coming from inside. Then the door flew open. “Jack,” Dean’s words wafted from him on alcohol fumes.

“I’ve come to visit and eat breakfast. Sam and Eileen are cooking.”

Dean pulled Jack into a hug. “I've been praying to you.”

“I’ve been listening.”

“You heard?” Dean pulled away. “Why didn’t you do anything?”

“I did. I’m here. It takes a long time to sift through all the prayers and all the needs. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I missed you too. I missed all of you. Time moves differently for us.” Jack felt like he was failing to explain everything adequately. “Why don’t you brush your teeth and come eat with us. Maybe a shower too,” he added once he’d let his eyes scan the whole mess that was Dean.

Dean nodded and moved past him. He turned back and said, “I’m glad you’re here. I’m sorry I’m like this.” He was smiling though, and that made Jack smile back.

Jack just waved at him and turned to go back to the kitchen. There would be much to discuss.

**Dean**

There had been a year of prayers both to Cas and to Jack. He’d decided that neither of them could hear a damn thing. If they could, he’d have heard something back, felt something. He struggled at first to get to the acceptance stage of things. Nothing felt right for a long time.

In the first months after losing Cas, there were distractions that he could latch onto, hunts, research, and Eileen’s return. It wasn’t enough to last. The nights at home were the hardest. He took to drinking. Nothing felt worth it. Then, Eileen and Sam announced that they had a baby on the way, and something shifted in Dean. Where everything was darkness, suddenly a little spark of light turned on. 

The light grew as time passed, then she came and everything was bright and shining and good. He still missed Cas. He still had mountains of regrets, but when he held little Mary, he could set aside all the other stuff. There was no loss, no blame, no horrid emptiness. There was just Mary and her tiny fingers clutching at his own. 

He’d drown himself in her if he could. He already took up a fair amount of her time. Sam and Eileen loved him enough to let him dote on their daughter. They even let him have some night duties. 

The memories hadn’t faded. They’d always be there, but somehow he could hear Cas’ words,  _ I love you, _ and they didn’t send him into the depression he once faced. It was good to be loved. He pushed himself. He studied. He traveled in search of other books of lore on the Empty. He likely knew more than any other person on the subject. There wasn’t much to know. He’d tried spells. He’d tried tapping into Rowena’s store of knowledge. And though she sympathized, even she had no solutions. 

She asked a lot of uncomfortable questions like, “Did you ever tell the angel how you felt?” Her words haunted him a little. Dean had barely been able to answer her at the time. He thought now that maybe her words had helped though. It was like Cas said,  _ happiness is in the being, in just saying it _ . In his unheard prayers, sometimes he found himself saying it.  _ I love you _ . 

He still marveled at the fact that Cas had found happiness in the most depressing moment of Dean’s life. It was so like him. Dean wished he could have just one more moment with him to tell him what an asshole move it was to lay all those cards on the table and not give him enough time to respond. Of course, if he had one more moment, he’d likely use it in a way that was better. He’d just respond, just tell Cas that for him it was the same.

The night before Jack’s arrival had been fine, even a little dull by most standards until it wasn’t. It had been a little over a year since everything had gone down. It wasn’t an anniversary of loss, but time sat heavy on Dean that night. He decided to do something that usually brought him joy, washing his car. It was normal, and a fine way to pass the evening. He had his music playing in at an intense volume. He sang along to hard, fast tunes that had gotten him through long drives through no man’s land.

When he finished, Baby looked great! His eyes moved from her to the rest of the garage. All the vehicles parked in their bays. Eventually his eyes fell on the old truck in the last bay, Cas’ truck. It had been a little neglected. Dean hadn’t done anything with it since before Cas had gone. Sam drove it a couple of times just to haul some supplies, so at least he knew it still ran. 

Dean wandered over to the truck and ran his hand along its side until he got to the driver’s side door. He opened it and slipped into the seat. He closed the door and breathed deeply in the space as if he was pulling in whatever air Cas may have left behind in the space. It was a silly thought to have in the moment, but Dean wasn’t going to dwell on that too much.

The keys were in the ignition. He turned on the auxiliary power. There was a tape in the stereo. He pushed it in. It was Zeppelin. And suddenly Dean knew what this tape was. It was the tape he made for Cas all those years ago. The fact that he kept it, and that it was sitting there in the deck just waiting to be listened to. It hit him a little. He wondered how the tape hit Cas. He wondered if he understood that it was the best way that he had at the time to share his feelings. After all, there was never a time when he thought that he could be open about any of it. They’d been told often enough by the world and angels and such that any relationship beyond friendship between them would be an “abomination.”

Dean let his mind wander over the music. As the moments passed, he realized that as much as he wanted to believe that Cas understood the hidden message, he really didn’t. If he had, he wouldn’t have said,  _ the one thing I want, is something I know I can’t have. _ And in that moment, Dean felt himself losing a little of the peace he’d gained. He blamed himself. At any moment, he could have made it clear to Cas that they could have had it all. Cas died thinking that Dean could never feel the same feelings for him that he had felt so powerfully. 

Dean sulked to the room where it happened. He scrounged up a bottle of whiskey. Sam had to haul him off to bed later. He was sure he said some things, things he’d have to explain later when he sobered up.  _ Best not do that then, _ he thought. 

Instead of waking up to a bit of day drinking though, he was jolted into consciousness by someone knocking on his door. He tried ignoring them, but they persisted. “Go away,” he mumbled.

He heard a voice, and it sounded familiar. “Dean.” 

Dean sat up and knocked over the remnants of a bottle of whiskey. His head pounded. He tried to get up, but he had to sit right back down again. He heard his name again, and recognized the voice.  _ Jack. _ He rushed the door and yanked it open.

“Jack,” Dean said. The rest was a blur. He hugged him, felt Jack’s judgement, became exceedingly self-conscious, and went off to clean himself up. 

It had been a year. He’d heard the prayers. A small part of Dean felt shame. Some of his prayers had been less than kind. He knew that there were limits to what Jack could do, but he’d laid blame on him anyway during some of his darker days. 

He hoped that Jack would understand. He hoped that he could fix the damage that his idiotic prayers may have done.

**Jack**

Jack stood in the center of the kitchen again. Sam and Eileen had laid out a bunch of food for way more than just them. He smiled at them as they shuffled around each other. 

“He’s not doing well,” Jack said when they started to sit down to eat.

Sam looked down at his plate. “It was like this last time Cas died. He fell apart. You remember. He was a mess. This time was worse at first, but he got better. He was doing really well. Something happened last night that set him off. We didn’t get to the heart of what that something was.”

Eileen added, “We’ve pieced together some things. Apparently, Dean was sitting in Cas’ truck listening to his music. I think it was just a trigger for a whole lot of emotions that he hasn’t gotten to deal with yet.”

“He has prayed to me,” Jacks said. “At first it was a lot of incoherent drunken rambling, but later it was a little easier to follow. Cas told him that he loved him.”

Sam nodded, “He said as much once when he was really drunk. Last night he confirmed it. He needs to feel less like he failed Cas. I’m not sure how we help him.”

“It sounds like last night was just a small set back,” Jack said. “He really has been sounding better lately.”

“He has,” Sam said. 

Eileen reached over and set her hand on his. “We’ve been trying to help him. I think the only thing he needs is to feel like he can share his feelings with us and, of course, accept that things are the way that they are.”

Jack hummed a little as he took in the words. Dean moved into the kitchen. He’d been listening. Jack didn’t say anything. Sometimes it was important to hear people’s concerns. 

“Why so serious? We got company.” Dean plopped down in the seat across from Jack. “We’re glad you’re here. Will you stay long?”

“I can’t, but I can stay long enough to take care of business.” He reached out to Dean and tapped his forehead. “You’ll need to be sober for this.” Jack smiled at him. “You know that we all love you. And you know that we all love Cas right?”

Dean nodded. The sobriety was likely hitting him pretty hard. “Of course I know that.”

“You don’t have to accept things. I wouldn’t ask that of you, but I do think that you should feel like you can talk with your family about your feelings.” Jack leaned forward in his seat. His stare was seeing past the surface of what Dean was to everything that he was. “Talk to us.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Dean sounded steady, but Jack could read the way that he was lying. 

“You loved him.”

Dean looked away from Jack to Sam, then to Eileen. Mary gurgled from her baby swing in the corner. Sam broke the silence. “You already told me. It’s okay. We always knew.”

Dean just stared at the table now. When he opened his mouth to talk it was dry and nothing emerged.. He dipped his head to the table and let it rest there. “I couldn’t say a damn thing. I didn’t even make a move to save him. You know the last words I said to him? Do you?”

Jack reached over and began rubbing Dean’s shoulder. “None of that matters. What matters is what you feel. What matters is just saying it.” 

Dean sat bolt upright and stared at Jack. “How’d you know what he said? Is this one of those god powers?” He was breathing hard now. “Well if it is, you know that I just asked him why this sounded like a goodbye.” Dean laughed and swiped at his eyes to dry them. “He told me he loved me, and I didn’t say a damn thing that mattered. I just froze up. It was all so much. I didn’t give him a damn thing.” He waved his hands around the room. “I”m a mess. I can’t accept it.”

Jack said, “Then don’t accept it.” He got up from the table and walked a few paces into the middle of the room. Everyone stood and stared at him. “Do you really think that I spent the last year accepting things?” Jack leveled his gaze on Dean.

“What are you saying, Jack?” Dean took a step closer. “What are you saying?”

Jack just smiled and tipped his head in a nod toward the doorway. He had to do it twice before Dean got the hint and ran out the door.

**Dean**

Dean didn’t dare hope, but his body was rushing to the main room like hope was all there was in the world. He got to the main room and looked up to the landing. He had to blink a few times to really believe what he was seeing, and even then....

“Cas,” Dean breathed out the name. He took the stairs up to him two or three at a time. When he got to the top, he stopped abruptly and just stared. “Are you really here?”

It looked like Cas. His arms hung loose at his sides. His eyes looked like they were on the verge of tears again. “I’m here.”

“Is it really you?” Dean took a step closer. 

“It’s really me, Dean. I’m home.” Cas smiled and really did start crying. “Jack got me home.”

“Are you staying? Is this permanent or are you going to throw another goodbye at me?” Dean got close to him now, their chests were practically pressed together. 

“As long as I’m welcome, I’ll stay,” Cas said as he stared steadily into Dean’s eyes. “If I make you uncomfortable, you can ask me to leave.”

Dean pulled him into a hug. His face pressed into the crook of Cas’ neck. Hot tears rolled down into the fabric of Cas’ trenchcoat. “No more sacrifices. No more leaving,” he said into skin and clothes and Cas. He let his lips brush the nearest skin. He held on, and so did Cas. He pulled back to look at him. He pressed his forehead against Cas’ and said, “Everything you said before, I don’t know that I buy all of it. I’m not full of love and goodness. I’m full of anger and idiotic choices. But damn if I haven’t tried to be the man you said I am. I’ve been failing though. I’ve just been treading water since you left. You know why?”

Cas shook his head. He reached up to Dean’s face and cupped his cheeks in his hands. “You never have thought highly of yourself.”

“That’s not it though. You see I thought that I couldn’t have the one thing I wanted. And you went and made a deal before I could tell you that for me, all that stuff you said, it’s the same.”

“What do you mean?” Cas pulled back a little to really look at him.

“You know. Of course you gotta know. I love you, of course I do. And this, it’s everything. You, you’re everything.” With that, Dean pressed back in and kissed him softly on the lips. It was a gentle, brief brush that promised more to come. “Welcome home, Cas. Welcome home.” He ran his fingers back into Cas’ hair, smiled and kissed him again, this time more fully than the last.

**Author's Note:**

> As always thank you for any kudos you feel like leaving and any kind words. You can also find me on Tumblr under the name [Spearywritesstuff](http://spearywritesstuff.tumblr.com/) or more often on Twitter under the name [Spearywrites](https://twitter.com/spearywrites)


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